I Love You But I Can't Breathe

Chapter Eighteen

Harry moved back in with his mum less than two weeks after he got put into a wheelchair. 

"I, uh... my mum, she kind of... she thinks it would be better for me to be home right now... at least until this clears up," Harry had said one day, avoiding Louis' gaze. "There's just- there's less stairs, I guess? I don't know, I think it could be okay, just, um, for a bit." 

"Yeah, of course," Louis had replied, because there was no good way to respond to your boyfriend telling you he wanted to move out. 

Louis had dutifully packed Harry's stuff back into boxes- some of it was still in the old boxes, he hadn't even completely unpacked yet- and drove the boy to Anne's house the next morning. 

"My shift's starting soon," Louis said, after dropping Harry off and piling his boxes onto the driveway. "Should I...?" 

"Yeah, my mum can help me," Harry said, giving a faint smile that seemed a little forced. 

And just like that, Louis was no longer living with his boyfriend. 

* * * * * * * 

"Where's H?" Zayn asked, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter. 

"Visiting his mum for a while," Louis replied, stretching up onto his tip toes to get to the good junk food in the cupboard. He tugged his shirt back into place afterward, conscious of the two- okay four- pounds he'd gained since Harry's diagnosis (or rather, lack of a diagnosis). He couldn't remember the last time he'd been to a football practice; his jersey was smushed at the bottom of his laundry hamper, the faded pink shorts somewhere lost in his sock drawer. 

"He needs that many boxes to visit his mum?" 

"Fuck off," Louis snapped, biting the end of a granola bar off, and heading towards his room. He hadn't gotten used to Zayn being back yet- refused to get used to it. 

Zayn sighed. "Not trying to be a dick, Tommo. Just trying to talk to you. Fucking impossible lately, by the way. Thought you were supposed to be the fun one." 

"Kinda hard to be fun when your boyfriend's got some undiagnosed disease," Louis said. 

"He's also got an undiagnosed daddy kink," Zayn added. "But what are you gonna do?" 

"I'm fucking done with you," Louis fumed, his cheeks turning bright pink, but not denying anything. "And for the record, I never said you could move back in. It's your own fault if you failed in New York," he swiftly changed the subject. 

"I came back to see Harry," Zayn said simply. 

"He's not sick enough for you to need to-"

"Lou," Zayn said softening, reaching out to touch Louis' arm. 

"Don't," Louis warned, stepping back. 

Him and Zayn used to be inseparable. They had the same harsh sense of humour, the same restless need to take the car out at two in the morning and just drive out into the middle of nowhere. They started to fracture after high school though, while Zayn started slotting himself in with the pretentious art kids, and Louis spent most of his time with his football team. Despite the billion times Zayn insisted he was straight, Louis had really noticed the damage in their friendship once him and Harry had become more serious and they'd never fully healed from it. 

"You need to stop pretending he's fine, Lou," Zayn said, his eyes soft and full of pity that Louis didn't want from him. "You'll feel better if you just make the most of your time with him. I'm not saying he's dying, I-"

Louis' glare was as sharp as glass. 

"I'm saying," Zayn continued, "he's been getting worse since this started, so you have to be prepared for the fact that this might be the best condition he's going to be in. Make the most out of it, you know?" 

"He's not dying," Louis stated. "So there's no reason to act like it." 

"Well, I was talking to H about it and he wanted me to draw up some sketches of-"

"Great, so Harry just talks to everyone but me about this?" 

"You're the only one who's not letting him be sick," Zayn said simply. "He has plans, and dreams, and things he wants to do before- sorry, in case, things were to get worse. You're not listening to that because it's not what you want to hear."

Louis had nothing to say because Zayn wasn't wrong. 

* * * * * * * 

"You want the pink glitter or the blue foam?" Louis asked, sorting through Harry's basket of bath bombs. The only thing that seemed to help him anymore were long baths. The hot water eased his muscle cramps, and the steam seemed to ease his lung pains enough that he could take off the oxygen tube while he was bathing. 

Louis felt more than a bit awkward joining Harry in the bathtub when they were in Anne's house, but seeing Harry pain-free was worth the embarrassing small talk with Anne while they were both still obviously wet from a shared bath. 

"The blue one's my favourite," Harry said, wriggling out of his sweatpants and letting Louis guide him from his chair into the water. 

"Heard you were talking to Zayn," Louis said, once the younger boy had settled into the tub. He felt Harry's muscles stiffen. 

"Yeah, I mean, I hope you're fine with it but I don't want to hold a grudge forever." 

"What were you two talking about?" 

"Nothing," Harry blushed, curling up against Louis' chest. 

"Be a good boy and tell me," Louis said, the words blurting out as he thought of Zayn's comment earlier. 

Harry's eyes instantly darkened, and he grabbed hold of Louis' bicep, biting his lip. 

"Wanted something to connect us," he said quietly, reaching for Louis' hand under the water.

"Yeah?" Louis asked, trying to look calm as he felt his heart racing. 

"Want to tie our hands together," Harry murmured, splaying his hands across Louis' stomach. 

"That can be arranged," Louis said, smirking a little, tipping his head closer to Harry's to try and steal a kiss. 

"Permanent," Harry breathed, "Want it to be permanent." 

They were so close together that Louis bumped their foreheads together, sharing the same air, lips inches apart. 

"What do you mean, babe?" Louis asked, feeling the heat rise in his stomach as Harry trailed his hands lower. 

"Tattoos," he murmured, the words tickling Louis' skin. 

Louis forgot how sexy Harry was. Admittedly, he'd felt like more of a caretaker than a boyfriend lately, and they'd lost a bit of their spark along the way; but now with Harry's hands electric on his skin, it was clear that he was having one of his good days and Louis didn't want it to end. 

"So you thought you'd get me off to try and convince me? Is that your master plan?" 

"It's working isn't it?" Harry grinned. "You'd be a rope and I'd be an anchor?" 

"Fuck," Louis moaned, moving his hips up to meet Harry's hand. "Tattoo your name on my forehead, babe, just... mmmm, God, don't stop."

Harry giggled, leaning forward and finally finally kissing Louis, his hands and his tongue teasing and making Louis feel like he was falling apart.  

Harry was frisky and warm, and all over Louis, quiet moans and giggles escaping his petal pink lips as Louis touched him under the water. 

This couldn't be what dying looked like.  

I'm back :) predicting around five-six more chapters left in the story by the way! 

I'm so nervous right now because I'm getting ready to tell my best friend about my bipolar disorder and I was diagnosed five years ago, I don't want her to be mad at me for not telling her but I didn't tell anyone. So I'm super anxious today :s

I hope you're all doing well <3 also Happy birthday Liam :)